I have reached that brutal point in my semester where I am convinced I will not make it. Why, because it’s hard. Every semester ebbs and flows along a familiar shore line. It’s hurrican season. I forgot my raincoat.
I have spent a total of fifteen semesters (including failed attempts) as a student. The total count does not include summer and winter sessions. I always tell myself, “you’re a pro, relax.” I’m a terrible listener.
Student Prespective of The Fall Semester
Last Week of August: I’m so badass for being here.
First Week of September: Awesome, my instructor has never taught a course, my online class is ‘special’, and holy shit this syllabus is cray.
Second Week of September: I’m actually insane for voluntarily signing up for these courses.
Late September: Why, why am I taking this class?
Early October: First assessments. It’s cool I got this. (Shit, I’m a week behind in the reading.) But I still got this.
Mid October: First assessments graded, we’re good. Job done. I am a rockstar.
Midterms: Why?? Everyone is out eating apples, and drinking cider?!? Why am I doing this?
Later in Late October: Midterms complete. Resume rockstar status.
End of October: My instructors are nuts. They are going to finish all of this material before Christmas??!? You people have no idea.
November: Three weeks until Thanksgiving. If I make it through the second round of assessments I can use the Thanksgiving break to prepare for my finals. I have a plan. I am badass, again.
November Day Five: Question everything I believe in, and make logical arguments about higher education being a total waste of my time. Have small crisis of faith.
Mid November: I’m super snappy with family, curse hosting Thanksgiving, and have lost all faith. (Return to day five.)
Late November: Yell at someone. “You have no idea how much work I have to do. Everything is a mess. I hate school.”
Thanksgiving: Recuperate. Do zero schoolwork. Have internal anxiety about needing a break and accomplishing nothing. Yell at everyone on the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend for my poor choices.
December: Insert nervous breakdown, curse everything, damn academia, because I have time for NOTHING. (Repeat behaviors of late November.)
Second Week of December: I can do this with coffee. Fancy people tell me it’s all about grit.
Finals: “We have to know that too!!?!? Will my reputation influence my grade? I’m really engaged in class, that counts, right? My study guide is 37 pages long. That’s cool. There’s a paper!! No one told me about me about a paper.”
Finals Part II: Girlfriend, get on your life. Make a plan. Get off Facebook.
Finals Completed: I don’t even care how I did, but I’m going to obbessivly refresh Blackboard for final grades.
Semester Complete: One more the books. It’s all about the paper.
The holidays are approaching, but oh my god I need to sleep so much. Trim a tree, and drink wine. Several nervous breakdowns later, I’m closer to earning another paper. Faith is restored. I am badass again.
One more semester complete.
The New Year: I’m super psyched for my spring course load. It’s going to be awesome.